


If you stack the deck

by Mystrothedefender



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Abortion, M/M, Self-Harm, Trans Male Character, Trans Pregnancy, Transgender, trans joker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrothedefender/pseuds/Mystrothedefender
Summary: Batman discovers that the Joker is pregnant.





	1. Chapter 1

Batman tried the door to the old storage unit. It was locked but it wouldn’t be hard for him to break it, it was ancient and already crumbling.

He gave it a hard hit with his elbow, and it fell to the floor.

The metal garage-like door squeaked and squealed as he pulled it open, it sounded as if it hadn’t been opened in years, but he knew it had, he knew Joker was in there.

He stepped through into the large space, looking around through the junk and mess.

Joker was here, Bruce knew he was. The last time they’d seen each other he’d planted a tracker on him.

He walked further into the room, his fists clenched.

Then he saw him, in the corner of the room. His jaw dropped at the sight of him, he was unconscious, covered in blood both fresh and old, a large gash in his lower gut.

He rushed to Joker’s side, checking his pulse. It was there but… faint.

“Joker?” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “…What happened to you?”

There was no blood anywhere else in the room, this had happened here.

He glanced down, searching for whatever might have caused the injuries.

There was a large shard of broken glass at Joker’s feet. That must have been the weapon.

Who had done this? There was no sign of a struggle.

Had he done it to himself?

Batman swallowed hard and scooped him up. “I’ll get you home,” he said quietly.

Slowly he took the Joker towards the Batmobile, careful not to shift him or cause him any more pain.

He tipped the passenger seat back, laying Joker down, looking at the wound briefly under the light of the batmobile.

It didn’t look good.

“Alfred,” he said, lifting his finger to his ear.

“Do you have him sir?” Alfred asked.

Batman nodded, “Yes, he’s injured, I’m bringing him to the batcave.”

Alfred let out a deep sigh, “Again, sir? I’ll make preparations.”

“Thankyou,” Batman said as he jumped into the batmobile. He started at full speed towards the cave, putting the car on autopilot and turning to inspect the wound a little closer, perhaps there was something he could do here.

It seemed to be infected. He wasn’t sure how long Joker had been laying there. Maybe a day or two.

This could be fatal.

There was nothing he could do without proper medical equipment.

“Shit,” he growled to himself. He leant over to feel Joker’s forehead, giving him a soft pat to see if he would stir.

He did, barely, taking a deep breath in.

“What happened?” Batman asked quietly.

Joker looked at him from behind fluttering eyelids. He opened his mouth to speak, the action obviously taking a lot of effort from him. “Is it gone..?” he croaked out.

“Is what gone?” Batman asked, he shook his head, “Joker what did you do?”

He didn’t seem to have the effort to say anything else.

Batman had no idea what he meant. What could he have been trying to get rid of?

He shook his head, sitting back in his chair, swearing to himself again, wishing the car would go faster.

He outstretched his hand to hold Joker’s, giving it a soft squeeze, meant to comfort him. Their eyes met and Batman’s stomach twisted painfully.

He’d never seen him look scared before. Not just scared, terrified.

Who could have done this to him?

Joker tried to squeeze Batman’s hand.

“Don’t try to move, Joker,” Batman instructed.

Joker blinked slowly and deliberately, tears in his eyes which slowly dripped down his face.

“You’re going to be ok,” Batman said slowly.

He’d never seen Joker like this. He couldn’t help feeling panicked. This was uncharted territory.

They pulled into the cave, as soon as the cat came to a stop Batman jumped out, lifting Joker slowly. The man let out a soft groan of pain as Batman lifted him, the sound sending a sympathetic pain through Batman’s gut.

“Batman,” Alfred said from the other side of the cave, making his way towards them.

“Something’s wrong,” Batman said, his voice strained. He began to walk towards the medical centre.

Alfred looked down at Joker as they met, walking alongside Bruce as they reached the medical bay. “Have you assessed the injury, sir?”

Batman swallowed hard, laying Joker carefully on the table. “Someone’s stabbed him with a shard of glass. Several times in the same spot by the looks of it. It’s infected. I don’t know what’s happened.”

“That’s a messy wound…” Alfred said quietly as he began to inspect it, cutting away at the material around it, beginning to get to work. He looked down at Joker for a moment, his face dropping slightly at the look on his face. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time, mister Joker. There’s no need to worry.”

Alfred injected him with a painkiller, turning back to the stab wound, beginning to clean it up.

Joker squeaked and twitched at the feeling, letting out a groan which Bruce could only assume was meant to be a laugh. He wished there was something he could do to help.

He took Joker’s hand again, “It’s ok,” he said again, “I promise Joker, whoever did this, I’ll find them and they’ll pay for this.”

Joker’s mouth curled into a grim smile.

“Sir,” Alfred said, frowning, “I believe these were self inflicted.” He glanced up at Bruce, “Joker is right handed, correct?”

“Yes,” Batman said dryly. He looked down at Joker again, frowning as Joker’s smile grew wider. Why on earth would Joker do that to himself?

“Was this a suicide attempt?” he asked, his eyes turning back to Alfred.

Alfred huffed, “It’s a piss poor one if it was.” He shook his head, “No… I don’t think this was a suicide attempt. I…” he shook his head, “I don’t know what this was. Who’s to say what goes on inside that head of his.”

Batman nodded uneasily, he bit his lip, his eyes flitting between Joker and the wound in his gut. He seemed to have calmed down a little, the painkiller must have kicked in, he seemed to be falling asleep.

Alfred shook his head again, “Silly man…” he said quietly to himself. He sewed up Joker’s wound, turning to get another syringe, injecting him with something else. “There we are. He’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours, then I expect you’ll give him a stern talking to.”

Batman gave a small grunt in answer, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t understand why he’d do this.”

“I’m sure he’ll happily tell you all of the details,” there was a slight growl to Alfred’s voice. Batman knew they weren’t on the best of terms, and with good reason. He hated how easy Bruce went on him and how he always took advantage of that.

“…I’m sure there was a good reason,” Batman said quietly.

Alfred sighed, “You’re too soft on him, master Bruce. He doesn’t deserve the kindness you show him.”

Batman felt his teeth grit, “I don’t want to hear it, Alfred. If you’re done here, and you don’t want to be here, then you can leave.”

Alfred shook his head, “No, sir, as much as I may not like the man I won’t take risks with his health.”

“Thankyou,” Batman said, letting out a deflated sigh, “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “…I’ve never seen him like this, he’d never heart himself like this. Something must be wrong.”

“I can tell that much,” Alfred said quietly. He shook his head again, seeming a little sadder this time. “I’m going to make some tea while we wait.”

Batman nodded, watching him walk away. He moved back to Joker’s side, lowering a hand to brush Joker’s hair out of his face, letting out a soft sigh. Joker’s face was covered in sweat, blood, and general muck. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, Batman already knew that from the last time they’d talked, it was one of the reasons he’d decided to put a tracker on him.

“Why would you do this to yourself?” he said quietly. He sat on the seat next to the table, watching Joker’s chest rise and fall.

After a moment Alfred returned, taking the seat next to Bruce and handing him a cup of tea.

“Where did you find him?” Alfred asked, taking a sip of his own tea.

Batman took a mouthful of his drink, straightening up in his chair, “He was in an old storage unit.”

Alfred cocked his head slightly, “The seems rather humble for him.”

That wasn’t strictly true, although Joker did usually hide out in nicer places than that he had a habit of picking places he thought Batman wouldn’t search, no matter how awful they were.

Batman sighed, “This whole night has been very confusing.”

“I can only imagine,” Alfred said with a huff. “Hopefully he’ll wake up soon and you can get your answers.”

Slowly they finished their tea, and Alfred began to clean and sort away the medical equipment. Batman didn’t want to leave Joker’s side, checking him over every 15 minutes or so, he needed to find out what had happened to him, what had driven him to stab himself.

After a while, Bruce wasn’t sure how long it was, Joker’s eyes began to open, a long groan leaving him.

He tried to lift his head, seeming upset and panicked.

“Joker,” Batman said softly, reaching out a hand to stop him trying to get up. “Stay still, you’re hurt.”

Joker’s eyes fixed on him, soft pants leaving him, terror back in his eyes. “Is it gone?” he said, desperation in his voice.

“Is what gone?” Batman asked, “What are you talking about? Why did you stab yourself, Joker?”

Joker stilled, lifting a shaking hand to his face, he held his hand over his face, digging his nails into his skin. He let out a weak whine, “No… No, I want it _gone_ ,” he slammed his fist back on the table.

Batman stared at him, confused, “What are you talking about. Joker, calm down, please.”

Joker let out a deep breath. Bruce wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, he’d never seen him like this.

Joker shifted slightly, looking over at Batman. “I don’t want to tell you,” he said quietly.

“Why not?” Batman said, demandingly.

Joker closed his eyes. “Fuck. I… I’m _pregnant_ , Batman,” he spat.

“You’re…” Batman felt himself still, “Pregnant…” He shook his head, speaking in a monotone, “That’s not possible.”

Joker grit his teeth, “I wouldn’t fucking lie about it,” he growled. “Get it out of me,” he ordered.

Batman inhaled slowly, “How… did _you,_ a man, get pregnant?”

Joker closed his eyes again, a weak and strained chuckle leaving him, “Y-you moron, Batman. You _know_ that I’m trans.”

Batman nodded stiffly, “Yes, but you’re… you can’t get pregnant on hormones. You told me you can’t.”

Joker shook his head again, “I guess I forgot to take them for a few months or something. I have a hectic life, Batman, shit happens.”

“Shit happens?” Batman repeated, slight anger in his voice. “Why didn’t you take precautions?”

Joker scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I don’t have to explain myself,” he growled. “Just get this _thing_ out of me. Get it _out_.”

Batman nodded, his eyes closing for a moment. “I’ll do what I can. You rest,” he said softly. He got to his feet and walked over to Alfred.

“He’s awake,” Alfred smiled, “Did you get your answers?”

“He’s pregnant,” he stated.

Alfred turned to him, his mouth hanging open, “What?”

“He needs an abortion,” Batman said quietly.

Alfred forced his mouth closed, giving a small nod. “Do you know, uh…” he shifted on his feet, “Is it yours?”

Batman shook his head, “It doesn’t matter,” he said sternly. “He needs an abortion,” he stated again. “Can you do it.”

Alfred’s face went blank, turning pale. “I-I…” he shook his head, “It’ll depend on how far along he is.”

“If he’s too far along for you to do it?” Batman asked.

Alfred shook his head, “Then he’ll have to go to Arkham I suppose. Or carry the baby to term.”

Batman closed his eyes, a grim expression on his face, “He won’t do that. He’d kill himself before that.”

Alfred swallowed hard, “Maybe if it were yours he’d be a little more willing to try?”

“He is willing to kill himself to get rid of it. I don’t think it matters who the other father is.”

Alfred sighed softly, giving a small nod. “Ok, sir. After he’s had some rest I’ll talk to him about his options, run some tests, see what we can do.”

 “Thankyou, Alfred.” He glanced back towards Joker, “I’m going to stay down here with him tonight. I don’t want him trying to hurt himself again.”

Alfred nodded, “Very good sir. I’ll finish clearing up and then leave you to it.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a hard night. Alfred had been coming and going, running tests, changing Joker’s bandages. Batman barely slept, he didn’t move from his seat next to Joker’s bed. Listening to his shallow breathing as the situation played on his mind.

The Joker was pregnant.

The mere idea was ludicrous.

He couldn’t imagine the pain and anguish it must be causing him.

Enough to bring him here, make him do this to himself.

Most of the night he spent staring at Joker, holding his hand, their fingers entwined. It felt comforting, although he knew Joker didn’t know and couldn’t feel it, it helped him.

The next few days were going to be tough for them both. There was no way Joker could leave until he’d been given the all clear by Alfred, but then where would he go? With a wound like that he couldn’t go back to living on the streets, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself properly.

Arkham would most likely be the best choice for his aftercare, as non-ideal as that would be.

He jolted slightly as Joker stirred, his eyes opening slowly.

“Oh, shit,” Joker growled. “I’m still here?”

Batman nodded, “It’s been about 5 hours.” He’d been keeping track of every minute.

“I slept for 5 hours?” Joker scoffed, “Felt like a year…” He smiled weakly, a deluded kind of hope on his face, “Am I being discharged today, doctor Bats?”

Batman shook his head, “I doubt it,” he glanced down at Joker’s stomach, swallowing hard as he prepared his line of questioning.

“Are you on testosterone?” he began.

Joker nodded, “I am now, the past… 3 weeks? Probably due for another shot now.”

“When did you find out you were pregnant?”

Joker shrugged, reluctant to answer, “I don’t know, a week ago?”

“How far along are you?”

Joker shrugged, “I don’t know.” He glanced down at himself, “I’m not showing much.”

There was such a serious and depressed tone to his voice. Batman had never heard him sound like this, it was like he wasn’t himself.

“Never expected this did we, Bats?” he said through gentle laughter.

Batman shook his head, “No,” he said, drained.

He felt a lump in his chest, “This feels wrong,” he said softly, “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Joker shook his head, his body shaking slightly, “No it shouldn’t have, but it did. No thanks to you, Batman.”

His stomach twisted as Joker began to laugh, a smile spreading across his face.

He felt a weight fall on him, he closed his eyes for a moment. “It is mine..?” he said quietly. He grit his teeth. He hadn’t wanted to know that. It didn’t matter who’s it was.

Joker shrugged, “Pretty sure. I thought you should know.” He smiled weakly, “You can’t talk me out of it,” he said sternly.

“I won’t try to,” Batman reassured him.

Joker’s brow furrowed, “…I feel like Alfred might try to. You know, the older generation.”

Batman shook his head, “He won’t.”

“He’ll go on about carrying on your lineage… even if it’s with me.”

“You don’t want it, Joker. That’s all that matters.” He frowned, “It sounds like you’re trying to talk _yourself_ out of it.”

Joker shook his head, “I’m not I…” he smiled softly, his eyes meeting Batman’s. “I didn’t expect you to be so nice about it.” His smile widened, “I had retorts planned,” he complained.

“I’m not being nice about anything,” Batman said with a shake of his head, “I’m doing the decent thing.”

Joker smiled again, “Thanks. You’re full of surprises.”

Batman let out a soft huff, “Don’t thank me, Joker. I did this to you, it’s…”

Joker let out a weak chuckle, putting on a mocking voice, “I did this to you and it’s my duty to help you, then I’ll brood about it later.”

“I’m not going to brood about it.”

“You brood about everything.”

Batman growled softly, he glanced away as he got to his feet, “I’ll call Alfred down, he wants to talk to you about what we’re going to do.”

“Suddenly we’re a ‘we’,” Joker huffed indignantly.

Batman walked over to the intercom, glancing back at Joker as he pressed the button to call Alfred.

The intermittent buzzing noise rang through the cave, Joker started tapping his foot to the beat of it.

After a moment the noise stopped. “Sir?” Alfred said, his voice echoing from the speaker.

“Joker’s awake,” Bruce stated bluntly.

“Ah,” Alfred said, “I’ll be down in a moment.”

Batman nodded, although Alfred couldn’t see it, and he took his finger off the button. He looked over at Joker again, “He-“

“He’ll be down in a moment, yes, I heard.”

He walked back over to Joker’s side, looking down at him, his eyes rested on the bandage on his gut, trying to remember how long it’d been since it was change.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” Joker smirked, “Your butler does good work.”

“You didn’t have to do that to yourself,” Batman said softly, “You should have come to me, or gone to Arkham, or…”

Joker shrugged, “I panicked. We all do dumb things when we panic.”

“You stabbed yourself several times in the gut.”

Joker shrugged again, more deliberately and dramatically. “What would you have done?”

Batman shook his head, “This would never happen to me.”

Joker frowned, “Are you trying to make me feel stupid?” He scoffed, “I take back what I said about you being _nice_.”

Batman grit his teeth, “Joker. That’s not what I meant.” He let out a weak sigh, “I’m trying to help you, I want to help, Joker. I just want to understand why you would do this.”

Joker smiled, letting out a weak chuckle, “Oh, Batsy,” he shook his head, “You could never understand. Unless you’re secretly trans but seeing as how I’m carrying the fruit of your loins I highly doubt that.”

“Don’t say that,” Batman said through his gritted teeth, a soft growl to his voice. He exhaled slowly, “But you’re right, I’m sorry.” He shook his head weakly, “I just want to help, Joker.”

Joker rolled his eyes, “ _Please_ stop saying that, it’s creeping me out.”

Batman stilled, swallowing and glancing away. Joker was right, he had no idea what was going on inside his mind, saying he wanted to help and apologising was probably the last thing Joker wanted to hear. It would make him feel like he was doing something that he should feel sorry about.

He turned his head as he heard the cave door, letting out a soft breath as Alfred came down the stairs.

“Mister Joker,” he said happily, walking across the cave towards the medical centre, “I trust you’re feeling better this morning?”

Joker smiled and nodded, raising himself only his elbows, “I’m sure I could dance out of here if I wanted.”

Alfred gave a nod. “Well, I do hope that you’ll stay so I can treat you.”

Joker hummed for a moment, “I think that sounds like a good idea. What treatment did you have in mind?”

Alfred straightened up, his manor turning a little more serious. “I ran a couple of tests on you overnight, so I know what I’m dealing with now.” He let out a soft breath, “Luckily for you, considering you’re still in the first trimester, there are ways to treat your condition without surgery,” he glanced down at Joker’s bandaged gut, “Without literally cutting it out of you…”

Joker smiled weakly, seeming relieved, his head bowing slightly, “Ok. What do I have to do?”

“All you have to do is take a few pills, and relax,” Alfred said softly.

Batman couldn’t help letting a smile ghost his face as he watched the interaction, as much as Alfred didn’t like Joker his bedside manor was amazing, the way he spoke and acted was so calming and soothing, despite the grim subject.

“That’s all?” Joker scoffed, “I can do that in my sleep.”

Alfred shrugged, “I’d prefer you were conscious.” His face fell slightly, “You will suffer quite a bit discomfort.” He walked over to the counter, picking up a bottle, then turning to show one of the pills to Joker. Bruce had no idea where he'd gotten them from.

“This is the first pill.” He seemed to be becoming a little more uncomfortable as he spoke, “This one… ends the pregnancy. Then you’ll take another in 24 hours’ time, and that gets rid of it, that’s when the discomfort will start… And although I can’t say anything about the experience myself, I should imagine it’ll be a nightmare of dysphoria for you.”

Joker nodded along, though Batman wasn’t sure if he were really absorbing what Alfred was saying.

“Now, Joker, I must ask you… Are you sure this is what you want?”

Joker gave a hard nod, he glanced over at Batman, then back at Alfred, “I’m sure.” He reached out to take the pill, closing his eyes as he swallowed it.

He let out a deep breath, a wide smile spreading across his face. He opened his eyes and looked over at Batman, “That’s a weight off my mind.”

“I should imagine so,” Batman said, smiling weakly,

“The worst is yet to come,” Alfred frowned, “As I said, after tomorrow you’ll pass the pregnancy. There’ll be cramping and bleeding, mood-swings, general unpleasantness,”

The smile on Joker’s face dropped slightly, “I’m sure I’ll manage…”

“You’ll be here through it,” Batman said stiffly, “I won’t let you go through that out on the streets. In case there are complications.”

Joker let out a chuckle, “How kind.”

Alfred swallowed hard, “Batman, how would you propose we deal with that? You can’t make him stay down here.”

There was far too much sensitive information down here, and it wasn’t exactly comfortable, it was always slightly cold. Alfred was right.

Bruce shook his head, taking a second to think it over. For a moment he considered giving him free reign of the house, or perhaps taking him to a hotel. Neither were suitable.

“No… I’ll take him to the annex I suppose, lock him in.”

“You know I am right here?” Joker said stubbornly, “Don’t I get a say?”

“No, you don’t,” Batman replied stubbornly. “This is my house, you’re under my care.”

Joker blew a raspberry, “Alright, I guess.” He smiled, raising an eyebrow, “It’s going to be nice having you take care of me.”

“I suggest that you take him to bed, he’ll need all the strength he can get. And a change of bandages.” He glanced down at Joker, “And a shower.” He smirked, “In the opposite order.”

Batman nodded, “I’m sure we can do that.” He looked down at Joker, “…Can you stand?”

“I can try,” Joker smiled. He held out his hand to take Batman’s.

Batman pulled him to his feet, holding him steady, he looked him up and down. He was visibly shaking, the smile on his face wide despite it.

Alfred clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he handed Batman a pack of bandages. “Given your injuries I wouldn’t suggest you walk. Standing in the shower should be fine as long as you move slowly,” Alfred advised, his eyes turning to Joker as he talked.

Batman gave him a nod, he scooped Joker into his arms, looking him over again. He really did need a shower; his white skin made the muck on him even more visible, even in the soft light of the cave.

Joker looped an arm around Batman’s neck. “So, you’re saying that Batman won’t be helping me shower? No sponge bath?”

“Maybe next time,” Batman smirked.

After a moment the smirk faded back as he remembered who exactly he was talking to, and why exactly he was here.


	3. Chapter 3

Batman carried Joker up the stairs in silence, walking towards one of the annex. It was obvious now, once they were under natural light, how tired Joker was. His face was gaunt and his eyes were sunken.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked as they entered the annex, realising now that neither he or Alfred had given him food.

Joker shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting Batman’s grip on him to faulter. “I honest to god don’t remember.”

Batman let out a huff. He couldn’t believe that they’d gotten caught up enough to forget to feed him. “I’ll get you something while you’re showering.”

Joker let out a disinterested grunt, instead focusing on where Bruce was taking him, looking around the small apartment-like space. He let out a soft breath as he admired the minimalistic style, “This place is gorgeous. Living in the lap of luxury for the next couple of days.”

“You’ll need the extra comfort,” Batman stated.

Joker let out a soft grunt, nodding weakly. Batman wasn’t sure if he were unenthusiastic because of the position he was in, or because he was exhausted.

Batman lowered Joker to his feet, holding his hand and lower back as he sat him on the bed.

His gut twisted slightly, as he thought about how to proceed. “I’ll have to undress you,” he said tentatively, not sure how Joker would react to the request after what he’d been through.

Joker nodded, laying back on the bed, “Ok, I am at your mercy,” he chuckled weakly. It was as if he didn’t have the energy to protest even if he wanted to. He’d seemed full of energy when they were in the cave, was he pretending then? Perhaps he hadn’t realised how exhausted he was until Alfred had told him to sleep? Maybe it had been nervous energy and taking that pill had dispelled it?

Batman let out a soft sigh, he crouched down and began to pull off Joker’s trousers, careful not to jostle him too much. He averted his eyes as he removed his boxers too, followed by the shirt he was wearing, which Alfred had cut into.

Most likely Joker wouldn’t want it now. Bruce was sure he could find a replacement somewhere. None of his shirts would fit Joker’s slim frame, but perhaps something of Alfred’s would.

He wrapped his arm around Joker and lifted him up, guiding him to the shower, still trying not to look at Joker. He didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Thankyou, Batman,” Joker cooed, leaning against the wall of the shower, watching Batman fiddle with the settings.

“Don’t thank me,” Batman said with a growl. He stepped back, out of the shower as the water began to run, “I’ll be back in a few minutes with food, be careful, don’t leave the room.”

For a moment he let himself watch Joker, just to make sure he was steady enough on his feet to leave. He stuck his head under the stream of water, letting out a low hum as it ran over him. It must have been so long since he’d washed himself.

Bruce couldn’t imagine living like that.

He turned and made his way out of the bedroom, letting out a deep breath as he leant against the outside of the door, pinching the bridge of his nose. He locked the door and paused for a moment, absorbing what had happened.

He knew he didn’t have any right to feel bad about what was happening, but he did, he felt guilty. The previous night he’d been close to angry with Joker for allowing himself to get pregnant, but it turned out it was his fault too. He should have been more careful. He shouldn’t have blamed Joker for what had happened.

He made a mental note to not let it happen again, and he pushed the feelings of guilt away.

Joker needed food now, he needed caring for.

He looked down at himself as he walked towards the kitchen, only now realising that he was still in his full gear other than his armoured gloves. This was actually something that happened to him a lot, his suit was like a second skin to him, unless Alfred reminded him he’d forget to take it off. He let out a weak huff, he’d have to wait to change. It wasn’t as if anyone would see him wearing it.

But taking it off would be somewhat problematic. Although Joker knew who he was he’d always tried to keep up the guise of Batman in front of him. Now he may not be able to continue that.

He swore to himself as he began to root through the cupboards, picking up bits and pieces that might make a full meal for Joker. There wasn’t time to prepare anything substantial, Batman didn’t want to leave Joker on his own for too long. He never seemed to eat much at once anyway, and Bruce wasn’t sure how much he’d be willing to eat especially now.

There was a pack of chocolate protein bars in one of the cupboards, and a tub of leftover spaghetti in the fridge. It wasn’t much but it’d do until Joker was able to eat more.

He quickly returned to the annex, the food in one hand and cutlery in the other. He gave the door a soft knock before unlocking the door and entering.

“Batman,” Joker’s voice called for him as he opened the door. “Could I get a hand?”

Batman’s face fell slightly, there was a slight strain to Joker’s voice, Bruce was struck with the idea that he might have fallen.

“Joker,” he said loudly, throwing the food down on the bedside table and dashing into the shower, seeing Joker sitting on the floor, “Are you ok? Did you fall?”

Joker shook his head, “No, no. I was having trouble so I thought it might be easier if I sat down, but,” he chuckled softly, “I can’t seem to get back up.”

Bruce frowned softly, leaning over to take Joker’s hand, he moved his other hand to the crook of Joker’s arm, pulling him to his feet slowly and carefully. “Are you sure you’re ok? You’ve not pulled your stitches?”

Joker shook his head again, holding onto Batman tight. “I said I’m ok. I’m not that delicate, Bats.”

Batman let out a huff, frowning, he slowly led joker out of the shower and across to the bed.

He looked a lot better now, the layer of grime removed from his skin, his hair cleaned.

Bruce took a towel from the shower and returned to Joker, wrapping the towel around him.

Joker let out a soft breath as he grabbed at the towel, beginning to run it over his skin, drying himself, his arms shuddering as he did so. Bruce wasn’t sure if it was due to him being weak or him being cold.

He frowned softly, now realising that he’d forgotten about clothes. He moved to the bedside cabinet and opened it up, hoping that whoever had stayed here previously had left something, or that Alfred had stocked the draws for some reason.

Luckily there were some clothes in the bottom draw. There was no way they would fit Joker properly but it was far better than having him naked and cold. He pulled some out and threw them on the bed. A plain white tshirt and some checked nylon pyjama bottoms.

Joker looked at them, frowning. “My suit?” he asked softly.

Batman shook his head, “Your suit is filthy, and you cannot wear it to bed.”

Joker reached over to feel the clothes, a deep frown coming to his face as he ran the fabric of the pyjamas through his fingers. “These feel horrible,” he protested. “I won’t wear this.”

“Why not?” Bruce asked.

“I just told you, it feels horrible,” he shook his head, “It’s like they’re… gritty? Or wet or something. I’m not wearing them.”

Batman frowned, his mouth hanging open slightly, he thought to retort but decided against it. “Fine,” he said softly, taking the bottoms back and putting them back in the draw, finding some which were a flowy more fleecy material.

“Much better,” Joker smiled as Batman handed him them.

Bruce shook his head, “You’re so picky.” He positioned himself at Joker’s feet and began to dress him, still he tried to keep his eyes off Joker, discomfort swirling in him.

Joker smiled down at him, he seemed quite entertained by Bruce’s embarrassment. “You don’t need to act like such a virgin girl, Bats, it’s nothing you’ve not seen before.”

Batman let out a soft breath, ignoring the comment. He lifted himself up on the bed and fixed his eyes on the bandage on Joker’ gut. Slowly he removed the bandage and the patch over the wound, checking that everything was still clean and dry, and he began to apply a clean one.

“Nothing like a clean cloth,” Joker said with a smile, crossing his arms behind his head. He let out a breath as Batman worked on him, moving to take the white shirt and pull it over his head.

“Don’t move so much,” Batman protested, quickly shifting to pull Joker’s shirt down himself.

Joker scoffed, “Don’t tell me what to do…”

“My house my rules,” Batman stated firmly. He stood up, looping his arms under Joker to lift him again, moving him on the bed so he was laying in it properly.

Joker frowned, “I don’t like being treated like a rag doll,” he mumbled.

Bruce pulled the cover over him, taking the food he’d put on the bedside table and handing it to Joker. “Try to eat this,” he said softly, trying to sound calm and encouraging.

“Really?” Joker said, a sour look on his face as he snuggled up in the bed.

Batman nodded, “You need to eat, you need your strength.”

Joker looked down at the food. “I’ll eat the chocolate bar but I’m not touching whatever _that_ is,” he pointed to the pot of pasta.

Batman let out a soft huff, “Fine, I’ll take whatever I can get.” He unwrapped the protein bar for him, holding it out for him to take. “And then you need to get to sleep.”

Joker took the bar and bit a chunk out of it, “What will you do in that time? Watch me sleep?”

Batman shook his head, “I’ll leave. I have to sleep too, and shower.”

Joker let out a small snorted laugh, “Sounds nice,” he smiled, “Why don’t you sleep with me? Then you can keep an eye on me and sleep and have a shower.”

He shook his head again, a soft frown coming to his face, “No, thankyou, Joker, but I’d rather sleep in my own bed, it’s safer that way.”

Joker let out a hum, nodding, “That’s true; what if you kick me in your sleep and bust up my stitches?”

That wasn’t what Bruce had meant, but he nodded anyway. He’d rather Joker think he was worried about his safety rather than his own.

Joker finished the protein bar and threw the wrapper on the floor. “Well then, get going, leave a poor man to rest.”

Batman frowned, bending down to pick up the wrapper. He looked up at Joker indignantly, letting out a huff, “You’re a guest here, Joker, please don’t throw things on the floor…” He turned to leave rather than wait for Joker’s reaction, which would no doubt be something rude or mocking. “Press the blue button by your bed if you need something or if you hurt yourself. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Sleep well,” Joker cooed behind him as he walked out.


	4. Chapter 4

After a few hours sleep, a change of clothes, and a shower Bruce felt a lot better, he hadn’t fully realised he’d felt so grotty. Being physically clean made him mentally feel better as well. He wondered if Joker’s shower had had the same affect on him. Maybe that’d been the reason he’d agreed to eat.

He stretched slightly, mentally preparing himself for the rest of the day. Talking to Joker was always exhausting.

He wasn’t sure if Joker was awake yet. He hadn’t heard the buzzer for the intercom. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to disturb him and wake him.

With a disparaged sigh he decided it would be best to check on him. He walked down the stairs and along the hall towards the annex, his stomach dropping slightly with each step.

It wasn’t that he was anxious to talk to him, or that he didn’t want to. He wasn’t sure what it was.

It occurred to him as he walked that it was probably because of how he was dressed. This would be the first time that he and Joker had talked while he wasn’t in his batsuit or cowl. He’d opted for a tshirt and sweatpants similar to what Joker was wearing now, he felt there was some sort of solidarity there. He wanted Joker to feel comfortable.

He closed his eyes as he got to the door, letting out a gentle breath. He turned awkwardly and press his ear against the door.

Joker was snoring the other side of the door, Bruce could hear it clearly.

He listened to it for a moment, it was calming.

Slowly, as not to make any noise, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. His bandages would most likely need changing again.

He looked across the room, his eyes fixing on Joker’s sleeping frame, he was twisted into a strange position that didn’t look at all comfortable, it was no wonder he was snoring.

He swallowed hard as he approached the bed, he knew Joker didn’t sleep much, he would feel bad about waking him.

He let out a breath and slowly pulled back the sheets.

Maybe he’d be able to change the bandages without waking him.

He put his hands on Joker as gently as he could and turned him in the bed, pulling up his shirt to expose the bandage.

Carefully he began to pull the bandage off, studying the wound for any signs of stress. It seemed to be recovering well so far, it was scabbing over and it seemed whatever Alfred had done to it had stopped the infection in its tracks, the skin surrounding the ugly mar had turned back to its usual white.

He began to redress the wound, making sure not to rub against it, knowing that the pain of it might wake Joker.

He froze as Joker started to stir.

“Joker,” he said softly, raising a hand to hold his chest, “Try not to move, I’m changing your bandages.”

Joker looked down at him with sleepy eyes, after a moment they widened and he let out a surprised squeak. “What the fuck,” he said quickly, “Who the fuck are you?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, his mouth opening slightly, “Joker, it’s me.”

Joker’s face softened as he remembered where he was, “Oh, oh yes of course,” he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head, “I forgot you have a face under that mask,” his laugh grew a little louder.

“Stay still,” Bruce repeated, pressing Joker harder into the bed, “You’ll open your wound again.”

Joker scoffed, “You try waking up to some… _stranger_ touching you up.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Batman huffed, “I’m still me.”

Joker shook his head, his eyes narrowed, he lifted his hand and held it up to hide the top half of Batman’s head from sight. “Much better,” he said, letting out another soft laugh.

Bruce shook his head softly, “You don’t have to act like such a child.”

“I’m not acting like a child,” Joker pouted, his hand still held aloft, “I’m acting like a man who has multiple mental illnesses. Don’t infantilise me, Batman. It’s very rude.”

Batman closed his mouth, swallowing hard, averting his eyes from Joker. He felt a soft breath leave him. Sometimes it was easy to write off Joker’s actions as quirks or immaturity, he hadn’t really considered that some of them might be linked to his mental issues too.

“Sorry,” he said, resigned.

“I suppose it’s easy to forget when you hang out with neurotypical people all the time, so I accept your apology,” Joker smiled.

“I’m around people like you a lot more often,” Bruce observed. Thinking back over the past month he could count on one hand the number of people he’d talked to who didn’t have some kind of mental problem.

“Oh,” Joker said, almost growling, “In that case I _retract_ my acceptance.”

Bruce nodded, “That’s ok.” He chewed his lip for a moment, “I could put the cowl back on if it would make you feel more comfortable, just while I’m in here with you.”

Joker snorted and began to laugh, he moved his hand to cover his eyes.

“What?” Bruce asked, frowning again.

“It’s just,” Joker snorted again, his body quaking with laughter, “Please do that, please. The image of you wearing your cowl, with sweatpants and a tshirt. That sounds amazing.” He removed his hand from his face, looking bac up at Batman, “I’ve got to see that. I’ve got to take a picture and hang it on the wall.”

“Forget it,” Batman growled, “You can put up with seeing my face, I’m not having you laugh at me every time you look at me.”

“It won’t be every time…” Joker grinned. He let out a soft huff, “Are you done down there yet?”

“I’m just taping you up,” Bruce informed him, “You seem to be recovering well.”

Joker hummed and nodded. “This is just act one,” he said quietly.

“Tomorrow isn’t going to be…” Bruce began, his voice soft and worried, his voice trailed off as he realised there was no point in finishing the sentence, Joker already knew what was going to happen.

Joker nodded at him from the bed, “It sure is,” he said. There was an odd sort of glee to his voice.

It must be a relief for him, to go through this much turmoil and finally be seeing the end of the tunnel.

“It’s awful that you have to go through this,” Bruce said.

Joker moved his hand to run his fingertips over the bandage, following the lines of the cuts underneath. “It’s better than working a desk job,” he smiled.

Batman closed his eyes, moving his hand to place it on top of Joker’s, trying to comfort him. “Joker. This can be… It’s difficult for a lot of people. There are therapists who specialise in helping with… this kind of situation.”

Joker jerked his hand away, frowning, “Batman, let me make myself clear. No one is going to know about this. I’m not telling a soul about this _thing_ growing inside me, and I expect you not to tell anyone either.”

Bruce grit his teeth through discomfort. He nodded, and pulled Joker’s shirt back down.

“Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t,” Bruce said stiffly.

Joker smiled and huffed, “You don’t sound enthusiastic.”

Batman grit his teeth, “It’s… Not dealing with it is going to cause you more issues.”

“What’s one more?” Joker said, his smile widening.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Bruce said with a sigh, “But I would like if you talked about it with a therapist. They’ll probably think you’re lying anyway.”

“I do lie a lot…” Joker mused. “But no,” he shook his head, “I won’t risk it.”

“Risk what?” Bruce asked, moving back to sit on the floor.

Joker turned on the bed to look down at Batman. He paused for a moment, frowning. “You keep nosing in on my business, Batman. You _do_ know that I didn’t ask you to bring me here, right? I would have been perfectly happy bleeding out in that storage locker. I don’t owe you _any_ explanation of anything I do or do not do.”

“It’s my fault that you’re here, Joker,” Bruce said calmly, “It’s my fault that you’re in this situation, that makes me responsible for you.”

“No, you’re not,” Joker stated bluntly. “I am not some lost child. I’m a fully-grown man, Batman, I’m mentally ill, yes, but I’m independent. I have autonomy.” He huffed, “And even if I didn’t I would not put myself in _your_ hands.”

Joker’s eyes bore into him, making him feel small, as if he’d done something wrong. He didn’t know how to respond, or why Joker had gotten so rattled over it.

“You are not responsible for me,” Joker reiterated. “Stop talking about it or leave, your choice.”

Batman’s eyes moved to his fingers as he knit them in his lap, his mouth pursed closed. He let out a soft breath through his nose. He didn’t know how to proceed.

“Would you like to watch tv?” he said after a moment

Joker smiled smugly, giving a hard nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” He flipped himself in the bed, looking over to the small living space of the annex, “I don’t know if I can see the tv from here. Do you get any good channels? What dvds do you have?”

Bruce smiled softly, giving a nod. “Let me take you closer.” He lifted himself to his feet and carefully scooped Joker off the bed.

Joker clung to him as Batman began to lift him. He let out a soft chuckle, “You know I can walk,” he mused.

Batman frowned weakly. “Alfred told you not to.” He slowly walked round the bed and into the living space, lowering him onto the sofa.

“You know you’re very handsome up close,” Joker cooed as Bruce pulled away.

“I moisturise,” Bruce explained.

Joker scoffed, “Yeah, me too, but my face looks like leather and yours looks like suede.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” Batman smiled.

“It is,” Joker assured him. “Wait, how much older than you am I? Maybe that has something to do with it.”

Bruce frowned, moving to the tv to turn it on. “I don’t know. They estimated you were 45 to 50, that means you’re between 5 and 10 years older than me.”

Joker let out a low chuckle, grinning to himself, “10 years? I’m practically a cradle snatcher.” He picked up the tv remote and began flicking through the channels. “If I’m 50 I should start to think about settling down.”

Bruce moved to sit down next to Joker. “I think you’ve got a few good years left,” he said, humouring him.

Joker nodded, “Yeah… I’ll try to kill you a few more times maybe, then I’ll set about finding a husband, or wife, or… intelligent robot. Oh, what about that mars guy you hang out with sometimes? He’s got a nice ass, right?”

“I’m not answering that,” Batman smirked.

Joker smiled back at him, “I bet you’ve slept with him. I bet you one cookie.”

“What kind of cookie would you like?” Batman asked, smirking still.

Joker gasped loudly, “You did?” he held out his hand, “Oreos, please.”

Batman nodded, “I’ll call Alfred, you can have a whole pack to yourself.”

Joker let out another chuckle, “A whole pack? Damn that’s a lot of dirty alien sex.” He paused for a moment, “Is that racist..? It feels racist.” He let out another chuckle.

He leaned over to give Bruce a nudge, “Get me the cookies, and another one of those weird gross chocolate bars I had yesterday, it was awful but I want another one.”

“It was a protein bar,” Bruce confessed, “You get used to the taste.”

Joker scoffed, “You tricked me into eating a protein bar? You scamp.”

Bruce smiled and nodded, “And now you’re going to eat another one.”

“I am…” Joker sighed, shaking his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this a couple of days ago, but I got fired and subsequently forgot! OOPSY! SILLY FUCKIN ME!

 

Talking with Joker was actually rather enjoyable, Bruce never would have thought so. When he was making jokes about tv programs and not about murder he was quite funny. Bruce was sure that under different circumstances they would have been friends, probably more than friends.

They’d been sat together for at least 3 hours, Joker had become engrossed in a Netflix show about a horse, Bruce had never had time to watch it despite the good reviews he’d heard.

Joker let out a loud laugh at one of the jokes, leaning over on the sofa, putting his head against Batman’s shoulder.

“This is nice,” Joker said softly as his laughter petered out.

Bruce smiled, nodding weakly, “It’s good to relax.”

Joker moved his hand to give Batman a pat on the knee, “Yeah. I think I prefer _fighting_ you though.”

Bruce nodded again, more deliberately, “The adrenaline…”

Joker hummed, smiling, “Yeah, it’s real good.” He let out a soft chuckle, “It’s tiring though.”

Batman let out a grunt of agreement. “You couldn’t do it in your condition.”

Joker pouted, “Yeah…” He looked up at Batman, “Not even a little?”

Batman let out a chuckle, closing his eyes and shaking his head, “Joker…”

They both jumped at a knock on the door. After a moment Alfred opened the door, a medical box in his hand.

“Master Bruce, mister Joker, I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said as he entered.

Joker shrugged, Bruce shook his head.

“What did you need, Alfred?” Bruce asked, ignoring Joker’s shrug.

Alfred walked further into the room, “I just wanted to do a quick check on Joker, I need to take a little blood as well.”

Joker stretched out where he sat, his back and shoulder clicking loudly as he did. “That sounds like a treat.” His eyes widened, a wide smile coming to his face, “Oh! Did you get my oreos?”

Alfred let out a soft huff, giving a nod as he reached them. “Here you are,” he said politely, handing out the pack of cookies for Joker to take.

“Don’t open them yet,” he advised, crouching down next the Joker, “Wait until I’m done.”

Joker pouted, looking down at the packet in his hand, “That just makes me want them more,” he whined.

“Give me your wrist, please,” Alfred said, prepping two needles, one to take blood and one to inject a painkiller.

Joker let out a soft huff and held out his arm listlessly.

Alfred patted at Joker’s wrist, finding a vein. Joker leant back on the chair lazily, his eyes fixing on the tv again as Alfred pushed the needle in, injecting him with the painkiller.

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t kill that dog,” Joker mumbled.

Bruce let out a weak sigh, “I told you already.”

Joker rolled his eyes, twitching slightly as Alfred pressed the second needle into his skin. “I know, I know it’s illegal and wrong, but he’s done other illegal stuff.” He chuckled, nudging Bruce with his elbow, “I bet you would’a beat the shit out of him.”

Batman shrugged and nodded, “Most likely.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Joker growled softly. He looked down at Alfred, watching the blood run down the tubing attached to his arm, “You almost done there? What kind’a thing do you need to check anyway,” he glanced down at the patch on his gut, “I’m pretty sure my bandages don’t need changing again.”

Alfred shook his head, “No, not for another few hours. I just need to make sure that you’re not having an adverse reaction to the pill you took, or anything else we’ve given you.”

“What other stuff did you give me?” Joker asked, smiling weakly.

Alfred shook his head, taking the needle out of his arm and pressing a cotton ball against his skin to stop the bleeding. “I’ve just given you something to reduce pain, while you were asleep I gave you a few other things to help with your infection. You were sitting for quite a while before that, anything could have gotten into your system.”

Joker nodded, “Yes, I was, it was awful.” He let out a soft sigh, “I don’t think I’ve ever wished for death quite that hard.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” Bruce said softly.

“Oh shut up,” Joker frowned. “If you say sorry to me again I will shoot you.” He turned his gaze to Alfred, smiling at him, “Not you though, Alfred, you’re the one who has my pills.”

Alfred let out a weak hum, “You don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t take them.”

“I imagine I’ll die,” Joker grinned.

Batman let out a huff, “You don’t have to be so morbid,” he said bluntly. “You’re going to leave here fine, Joker.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Alfred added.

Joker shrugged, “I’m sure you’ll try your best.” He let out a weak sigh, “Of course you’ll probably ship me to Arkham…”

Bruce frowned, “Actually, we hadn’t talked about that. I want to focus on you getting better before we think about what happens afterwards.”

Joker’s eyes dropped to his lap, another sigh-like breath leaving him. “That’s very uncharacteristic of you, you usually think about everything.”

Bruce shrugged, “This was unexpected, I’ve not had time to come up with a contingency plan.”

Joker’s smile widened again, “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” he chuckled, “You’ve got a plan you just don’t want to tell me.”

Bruce shook his head, lying, “No. With this kind of situation it’s best to think of solutions as problems arise.”

Truthfully Batman had spent a lot of time thinking about what was going to happen afterwards. How could he not think of it? He’d had all night sitting by Joker’s bedside to think about it, everything that could go wrong, everything that might happen, the best thing do at the end was hand him to Arkham, but something about that felt wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Wow, Bats, you’re winging it, on my behalf,” Joker chuckled softly, leaning up against him again, “That must really mean you care.”

Alfred looked between them, obviously unnerved by the conversation. “Uh,” he began tentatively, “I just need to take your temperature, then I’ll leave you to it.”

He popped a thermometer into Joker’s mouth. “No talking, keep your mouth closed, it’ll just take a minute.”

Joker let out a weak growl, rolling his eyes, he leant back in the chair, his eyes back on the tv.

“I was wondering, master Bruce; what will you be having to eat today?” Alfred asked.

Bruce thought for a minute, “I won’t ask you to cook two meals Alfred, you’re busy enough as it is. I’ll have some of whatever you make for Joker.”

Alfred nodded, “In that case you’ll be having beef shakshuka with spinach, followed by dark chocolate cheesecake,” he smiled at Joker, “We need to keep your iron levels up conserving how much blood you’ve lost and,” he glanced away awkwardly, “How much you _will_ be losing,” he cleared his throat, “But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re well fed and comfortable.”

Joker pouted around the thermometer, letting out a soft growl. Alfred pulled it out a moment later, looking at it and frowning.

“Your temperature is a little off, it’s not unexpected but, uh,” he looked down at Bruce, “I suggest you wrap him in some blankets and make sure he drinks some water.”

Bruce frowned at Joker, “If something was wrong why didn’t you tell me?”

Joker shrugged, “I don’t know what I’m meant to be feeling right now. I feel a bit shivery but that’s how I usually feel after I get stabbed. It feels really… trippy.” He turned to smile at Alfred, “The food sounds lovely by the way, Alfred, but does it have to have spinach in it?”

Alfred nodded, “Yes, it does, as I said you need to iron.” He packed up his medical equipment and got to his feet, “It should be ready at about 4, you can eat it as you want.”

“As fast as possible and all at once?” Joker smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

“I expect you’re hungry,” Alfred nodded, “Would you like something to eat until then? Or will the oreos do?”

Joker nodded, “I’m perfectly happy with the oreos,” as he spoke he pulled the packet open and shoved a cookie in his mouth.

“Master Bruce, do you need anything?” Alfred asked.

Bruce shook his head, “No, I think I’m ok, perhaps a protein shake or some fruit.”

Joker scoffed, “You and your gross healthy food, have some cookies with me, Bats. Get some chocolate and chips and cheesy fries and… everything else.”

Alfred smiled weakly, “I’ll see what I can scare up,” he said, he was always happy when someone challenged Bruce’s eating habits.

Bruce let out a soft huff, smiling, he watched as Alfred left. For a moment they sat in silence, the tv playing in the background as Joker stuffed his face with cookies. Bruce watched him, shaking his head weakly.

“Let me get you some blankets,” he said, getting to his feet and beginning to walk across the room.

Joker rolled his eyes, “Bats… Alfred wasn’t serious about that, I’m fine I don’t need blankets,” he pouted, “Or water,” he added.

Bruce shook his head, he picked up a bottle of water from the bedside table and then opened up one of the draws under the wardrobe, pulling out a fluffy pale blue blanket.

Joker cocked his head, “That _is_ cute though, what’s it doing in your house?”

“I do own some cute things,” Bruce said to defend himself, walking across the room and draping the blanket over Joker.

Joker gather up the blanket and tucked himself into it, balling up on the sofa. “I suppose people might cotton on to the whole Batman thing if everything about you is depressing. Gotta keep that mask on.”

Bruce frowned weakly, handing over the bottle of water. “Actually, Joker, blue is my third favourite colour, after black and grey. I have blue pyjamas and blue suits.”

Joker closed his eyes, letting out a gentle hum, “It does match your eyes, very cute.”

Bruce chuckled softly, “That is true, but that’s not why I like it.” He looked over at Joker, “Drink your water,” he said, reaching out to nudge the bottle in his hand.

Joker let out an annoyed whine, keeping his eyes closed as he unscrewed the bottle and took a loud gulp of water.

“Good,” Bruce said softly, smiling as he watched the water level decrease. “Are you going to nap on the sofa now?”

Joker shrugged, putting the cap back on the bottle and holding it out blindly for Batman to take.

Bruce took the bottle, putting it down by their feet. “You can if you want, I’ll pause the show.”

“What will you do if I sleep?” Joker asked, a weak smile coming to his face, ”Watch me sleep?”

Bruce shrugged, “Read a book? Watch another show?”

“Wow,” Joker said deadpan, “Endless possibilities.”

Bruce smiled weakly, “I don’t have many other options, do I? Not without leaving you, and if I do leave you I’ll be distracted from whatever I do because I know you’re in here.”

Joker let out a soft hum, smiling to himself, he sank further into the seat, his eyes still closed. “I like that you’d be thinking of me, makes me feel special.”

Bruce paused for a moment to think to himself. He did have some work to catch up on and he was supposed to make a call to apologise for not attending a birthday party. “In which case, why don’t I go, and then you can sleep with the knowledge that I’m not able to concentrate because of you.”

Joker’s smile widened, he nodded and hummed again.

Bruce mimicked the nod. He put a hand out to pat Joker’s knee. “Ok,” he said quietly, lifting himself from the sofa, “If you need me just press the intercom.”

Joker let out another hum, giving another nod. “’K,” he said weakly, his voice breaking a little through sleep.

Bruce smiled and walked across the room, looking back at Joker as he reached the door, watching his chest rise and fall slowly as he drifted back off to sleep. He knew the medication Alfred had given him would make him more relaxed, but he hadn’t realised it’d make him this much more tired. It was good, Bruce told himself, he knew how stubborn Joker could be, how little he cared for his own safety and wellbeing. Being asleep was good for him.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Bruce let out a sigh as he put down the phone, if there was one thing he truly hated it was having to lie to people about where he’d been, although he knew his workplace would believe whatever he said there was always a part of him that told him they could tell he wasn’t telling the truth.

He leant back in his chair and cracked his knuckles, happy for a moment of quiet. He hadn’t heard from Joker yet, he’d assumed he was still asleep but still the thought played on his mind that he’d escaped somehow.

Of course he knew that wasn’t possible, but Joker had done the impossible more than once before. Joker wouldn’t want to escape anyway; Bruce and Alfred were accommodating him and only half way through treating him.

As he contemplated walking across the house to check on him the thought occurred to him that he could call the intercom and see if he answered.

Though if he was asleep the call would wake him up.

It would probably be best to go and check on him.

He got to his feet and stretched, rubbing his eyes. He’d been staring at the computer screen for so long before he’d made that call…

He hated working in his office.

He decided to detour through the kitchen to get himself some water, it was only a few rooms out of his way. It would help wake him up a little. Perhaps he should have stayed with Joker and had a nap with him.

He probably would have woken up with penises drawn on his face.

He had finished the bottle of water by the time he reached Joker’s door, he felt a little more refreshed.

There were muffled voices from behind the door, for a moment Bruce thought Joker must have started watching their program again, but no, it sounded too clear to be from the tv.

He tried the door and found it was already unlocked. He frowned as he pushed it open.

The frown instantly fell as he saw Alfred, standing by the coffee table, looking down at Joker who was still snuggled up on the sofa.

“-It was quite the ordeal really,” Alfred said, sounding somewhat sad, having not noticed Bruce yet.

Joker hummed softly, “I can imagine.”

The blank look on his face split into a grin as he noticed Bruce standing in the doorway, “Oh, Batsy-boo, we were just talking about you.” He let out a soft chuckle, “You almost missed snack time!” he extended his arm to draw Bruce’s attention to the pile of snacks on the table.

“Now, I never mentioned you specifically,” Alfred said tentatively. He looked back at Joker before looking at Bruce. “Present events have brought up some unpleasant memories for me, that’s all.” He forced a smile, “It’s no matter, really.”

Joker scoffed, “It sounded like a real matter.” He smiled up at Bruce, “Now are you going to come and eat some snacks with me?”

Bruce’s eyes rested on Alfred for a moment, he seemed a little unsettled. Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what had upset him, or why he’d talk to Joker about whatever it was.

Perhaps it was something Joker had said that had upset him.

“Sure, Joker,” Bruce said with a soft smile, “Just give me a minute.” He looked over at Alfred and gestured to the door.

Alfred nodded weakly, his eyes cast down as they walked out.

Bruce stayed silent until he heard the door click.

“Did he say something to you?” Bruce asked, a demanding tone to his voice.

“No,” Alfred said, shaking his head, “No, master Bruce. I was talking to him about his situation,” he let out a gentle sigh, swallowing hard. “This has brought up some difficult memories for me, master Bruce.”

“Difficult memories?” Bruce asked, frowning.

Alfred stiffened slightly, his eyes moving away again.

“What are you talking to Joker about that you can’t talk to me about?” he asked. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt to have to ask that.

“Oh, sir,” Alfred said, his voice quiet, “It’s nothing you don’t already know.”

“Well,” Bruce felt his gut twitch in discomfort, he did have an idea of what Alfred meant but he knew talking about it would make Alfred feel better. “Reiterate it for me.”

A soft smile came to Alfred’s face, he obviously knew what Bruce was doing and was thankful for it.

“My pregnancy was not easy on me, Bruce. That’s not your fault, of course,” as he spoke he reached out to pat Bruce’s arm comfortingly. “But I’m seeing Joker go through something that I,” his voice weakened, “Sorry sir, I don’t think I could say it out loud. It’s too cruel.”

Bruce’s eyes dropped down to the floor, he felt himself deflate, a pang of discomfort filling his chest. “Do you wish you’d-“

Alfred slapped his arm again, harder this time, a frown on his face, “Of course not, sir! I would never- I,” he moved his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “… You don’t know how difficult it is, master Bruce. Your parents were lovely to me, they truly were, they were my family. However sometimes my brain got the better of me and there were points during the surrogacy where I wished this were an option for me.” He let out a soft breath, “I am sorry, master Bruce, but that is how I felt, to deny that I had those feelings would only cause me pain.”

Bruce swallowed hard, nodding, the discomfort slipping from him. “It’s ok, Alfred. I understand it would have been hard for you.”

“It was the hardest experience of my life, but I do not regret it in the slightest. I love you, Bruce. The happiness that you brought your parents, the happiness you’ve brought me over the years, I’m glad to say it was certainly worth it.”

“Thankyou,” Bruce said shortly, “But you don’t have to try and hide it, Alfred, I can understand how difficult it must be, it’s like reliving it. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you, Alfred.”

Alfred forced a smile, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, sir. But you can understand why I may have difficulty.”

Bruce nodded absently, he took a deep breath as he thought about the situation. “I can administer the Joker’s medications,” he said, “That way you can distance yourself a little.”

“That would be nice, sir,” Alfred nodded, “But don’t hesitate to contact me if something doesn’t go to plan.”

“Of course,” Bruce said, giving another nod. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Thankyou again, Alfred.”

He opened the door to Joker’s room, closing it behind him and closing his eyes for a moment.

“Bats!” Joker said happily, his face covered in chocolate and his blanket covered in crumbs.

“Hey, Joker,” Bruce replied, his voice was weak, what he’d just been told hadn’t sunken in yet, he wasn’t sure how long it’d take to absorb.

“You won’t believe what this damn horse has done,” Joker smiled, letting out a chuckle, “He has done _so_ many things that you would beat him up for. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been watching it without you.”

Bruce shook his head, walking over to the sofa and sitting by Joker’s feet, “It’s fine.”

Joker bit his lip, holding out a bag of chocolates for Batman to take. “So… Alfred told you his little _secret_? You shaken up?”

Bruce shook his head stiffly.

“No?” Joker smiled, “No he didn’t tell you or no you’re not shaken? Either way you’re lying. Even _I_ was shaken by it.”

Bruce let out a soft grunt, he opened the pack of chocolates and ate a piece.

“It’s nice though, to see a trans guy that old, passing and everything.” Joker’s voice was soft and genuine. He let out a soft chuckle, “Gotta say though, he kinda stole my thunder.”

A weak smile came to Bruce face, he nodded. “I already knew he was trans, so your thunder’s safe.”

Joker raised an eyebrow, “Then what’s gotten you rattled?”

Bruce sighed softly, he wasn’t sure how much Alfred had told Joker or how much he was willing to discuss. “Nothing,” he stated.

“Uh-huh..” Joker’s voice softened slightly more, “Makes me wonder; What’s going to happen to me when I’m that old?”

“You think you’ll live that long?”

Joker chuckled, “Well, I hope not, but there’s a slim chance,” he smiled at Bruce. “So what’s happening with ol’ Alfy?”

“Nothing really,” Bruce informed him, “But I’ll be the one giving you your treatments from now on.”

“Oh,” Joker said disappointed, his smile falling slightly, “That is a shame, he’s so fun to talk to. I hope it’s not because of anything I said.”

Bruce felt his stomach twist slightly. He shook his head, “I don’t think so, Joker.” He forced a smile, his eyes turning back to the tv, “So catch me up, what’s that horse been doing.”

“A bunch of stuff,” Joker smiled, “He uh,” his smile wavered slightly, “He just met his kid.”

Bruce looked at him, sensing the change in his tone, he swallowed hard as he felt his heart drop slightly. “Do you want to stop watching?”

Joker shook his head, “No, I wanna find out what happens.”

Bruce frowned softly, looking again at the tv, running his hand over Joker’s foot, “How did he get a daughter..?”

Joker smirked, letting out a small tittered laugh, “Well, you see, when two people love each other very much, or get very drunk, they hug very tight-“

“Joker,” Bruce growled softly, “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joker chuckled softly, he kicked out softly, giving Bruce a shove, “You know I make jokes.” He let out a deep sigh, his face dropping slightly. He curled up on himself in his corner of the sofa. “Do you think I could have been a good father?” he asked, his voice weak but serious. He sounded concerned.

His eyes moved back to Bruce, looking him up and down slowly, “Before I was… If I wasn’t, uh,” he cleared his throat, “If I wasn’t _crazy_.”

Bruce bit his lip, his eyes turning to meet Joker’s he studied his face before he answered, deciding to be truthful. “I didn’t know you before this, but… sometimes I get a glimpse of who you used to be, you have moments of clarity, that version of you, yes.”

Joker nodded, he seemed to be deep in thought. Bruce had no idea what was going through his mind, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Was that the version of me that you slept with?” he asked after a moment.

Bruce’s stomach clenched again. He had tried not to think of it before.

“I…” he began, thinking back to the times they had, trying to remember what if anything had triggered it. “I don’t know.” He expression stiffened, “I do know that that version of you is why I keep fighting for you to get better.”

Joker let out a growl, “That wasn’t what I asked.” He shook his head, “That’s a very stupid thing for you to do. I’m never going to return to who I was, it’s impossible. After trauma you don’t go back to who you were, you become a whole new person, the guys at Arkham told me that.”

“I didn’t know who you were before, I don’t know if that’s who I’m seeing. Maybe I’m seeing the ‘you’ you could become.” Bruce smiled, “That’s what I like to think.”

“And you think that version of me would be a good dad?”

Bruce shrugged half-heartedly, he wasn’t sure what answer Joker expected from him, if any answer he gave would cause an adverse reaction. “I do think so, yes. But there’s no point in thinking about it. You’ve already taken the first pill, there’s no going back.”

“I know,” Joker nodded, “And believe me I’m fine with that.” He averted his eyes again, seeming agitated and sad, “I was just thinking about… stuff.”

Bruce looked him up and down, his hand running over Joker’s foot again, trying to comfort him, “You don’t have to think about it if you don’t want to. What’s in the past is in the past.”

Joker nodded, a small smile returned to his face, he shifted and turned where he sat, he took Bruce’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, as he settled again he frowned, “We’ve got to rewind this, you talked over like a whole episode.”


End file.
